


A Day Off

by Tuptaju



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:37:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuptaju/pseuds/Tuptaju
Summary: "Can we go now?"My name is Jean Kirschtein and I'm twenty two years old, currently about to die.---In which Jean enjoys his day off with a friend. More or less.





	A Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is my second JeanMarco piece, but first one that I actually like. :D  
> I'd like to thank [Socks](https://braincoins.tumblr.com) for being my beta, [Chellyla](https://chellyla.tumblr.com/) and [approaching-asymmetry](http://approaching-asymmetry.tumblr.com/) for reblogs and tags, because they were the best motivation to finish this fic. <3
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy!

"Can we go now?"

My name is Jean Kirschtein and I'm twenty two years old, currently about to die.

"Jean, we've literally just stepped in." He smiles and since my only options are to either smile back or scowl, and there's _no way_ I'm going to smile... "You'll have fun, come on!" He pulls me by the wrist and leads me... wherever. And I, being me, the hopeless fool in love, follow. And believe me, I do my best not to notice when his hand slips onto mine. I still do and my face suddenly feels too warm.

As we push through crowds filled with laughter, I hold onto his hand with all my might, and it’s (not) only because it's the one thing that keeps me from bolting; and if I were to let go, we'd never find each other in this place.

I just close my eyes and focus on his hand in mine, coming to my senses only when I bump into someone-

"We're here!" Whoever I collided with is already gone and my thoughts don’t linger on that, since Marco bounces up and down like a child with a huge smile on his face, right next to me, pulling on my arm. I'd love to enjoy it, but it only takes me a second to notice why he's so happy and a shiver runs through my body. I swallow and feel my heart drop to my stomach. Fucking no. No way in hell am I getting onto this thing.

* * *

 

I end up getting onto this motherfucking giant of a rollercoaster. And, I shit you not, it's like they got the biggest rollercoaster I've ever seen and then just made it twice as big. Somebody call fucking Guinness World Records, they need to know that there's this monster, painted blinding red, with its cars looking like fucking firetrucks that, I'm goddamned _sure,_ are not safe.

Yet here I am, clutching the rail, my knuckles paper white. I'm pretending to be mad at the attendant buckling my belt, but to be honest I'm glad she did, even if the way she looked at me was slightly patronising, because I'd never manage it with my hands shaking as they did. As they still fucking are, it's just not as visible with how tight my gripe is. I’m looking straight ahead, not letting the thoughts of what's about to happen into my mind. If I stay like this any longer, I'll be in dire need of dental attention, or just unable to eat anything solid ever again. At least my jaw muscles are getting a workout.

 _Oh fuck,_ I think to myself as the gate is closed and the car starts to climb the first drop.

"Ooh, it's gonna be great! ...Jean, are you alright?" comes a voice from my left.

"Yeah, 'm fine, 'm perfect," I mumble and just tuck my chin into my chest, in hopes that it'll miraculously save me when I inevitably fall towards my death. I feel my stomach go up and up and up and if I were able to open my mouth it would crawl out, say "FUCK YOU, I'M OUT OF HERE" and then just ooze away, like a giant ugly snail. The vision would be vaguely disgusting under normal circumstances, now it just makes me want to laugh in panic.

And that's when we drop. I hear people scream, laugh, my stomach drops down to my ass and I tense up so it doesn't fall out- Which is precisely when my sweaty hands slip and in the momentary panic I open my eyes to the view of the ground coming up-

In the span of less than one millisecond I realize my arms won't just fit in the cart and there's no way I'm letting them dangle outside, so I do what everyone else does and throw them up. And then I'm screaming too, because holy shit, this is scary, why did I agree to this-

And it's... Over? We're back on straight rails, ohmygodthiswasterrif- WAIT IS THAT A MOTHER FUCKING _LOOP_?! I've never agreed to thi-

The whole stomach thing happens again and I hate it, but at least if I can feel it, I'm still alive. I’m still in one piece. I’m alright.

_I'm upside-down._

And then I'm not and it's fine again, even if just for a second.

Oh _no_ , here we go agai-

* * *

When we finally get off the ride, my legs are jelly and I can barely stand, let alone walk. I'm shaking, shaken, sweaty and fairly certain my face is greener than my mom's garden.

Marco, on the other hand, is shining like the fucking sun, his smile and eyes wide, straight up _giggling_ like a fucking schoolgirl. Thanks for that, Marco, now my heart aches too and my stomach feels even worse with the butterflies fluttering around.

"Do you want to go again?" I try to answer, but the only thing that comes out is an elongated wheeze, so I settle on shaking my head and I'm so grateful I didn't eat anything yet, because my stomach straight up quits its job by throwing whatever it's working on up into my throat. Marco drags me away before people can walk all over us and I gratefully flop onto the closest bench. He looks around for a few seconds and then sits next to me, rubbing my shoulder gently. I'd be having a stroke if I weren't so exhausted. Since I am, I just take my time to recover from the trauma I’ve just been through.

"Are you better now?" he asks carefully and I give a tiny nod, still not trusting my voice. In return, I get his blinding smile again and he's up once more, holding his hand out to me. "Pirate ship now? You can walk the dizziness off and you should be fine by the time we get on."

"Yeah, sure." I shrug, not thinking, and take his hand. And so I'm dragged off again, only now I'm sweaty and when we move through the crowds I feel myself sticking to other people. Great.

We arrive at the so-called "Pirate Ship" and it's actually a good description. Also, I've been on one of those back when I was a kid, so I know I can take it. Bring it on.

* * *

 

This ride goes much better and I actually have some fun, enjoying wind on my face and Marco's presence next to me. It's almost disappointing when it ends, and I'd gladly go again, but there's too many people waiting for their turn to try wriggling one more ride in from the attendant. And Marco pulls me away again, anyway. For a minute I feel like this day could actually be good.

And then this freckled bastard tries to kill me again.

The thing is, from what I can hear, called "the Scrambler.” I'd rather not call it anything and just run as far from this shit as possible.

Instead I'm being dragged closer. And closer. And when it's the last possible moment to quit, I do. I chicken out and say...

"Hey, Marco, I think I'm gonna sit this one out, okay?" Like the wimp I am.

"Really?" he pouts and I'm starting to reconsider, terrified of how much power he has over me, and how he doesn’t even realize it - or does he? Judging by how often he pouts at me and _only_ at me when he wants something- The son of a bitch, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

The attendant gives a cough and, apparently, I'm in luck, because Marco gives up. "Okay then, you'll wait for me, won't you?"

"I'll be right there," I point to the nearest bench and walk off towards it when he nods, feeling his hand squeeze mine for just a fraction of a second before letting go.

I watch the ride start up from where I'm sitting and I thank God that I didn't get onto this monster. I'd actually throw up this time, and I'd rather not. I check my phone while I wait, if only for the sake of not thinking too much.

**_Eren_ **

_whys it only mess when u r not here???_

**_Jean_ **

_?_

**_Eren_ **

_u got a day off and all hell comes crshng in_

_how_

**_Jean_ **

_lol, you just can't handle it_

**_Eren_ **

_fck u_

_u just scare ppl off_

_ull make this business bankrupt son_

_soon_

**_Jean_ **

_don't call me 'son', son_

**_Eren_ **

_fuck u_

_shit Levis mad_

_adlajfijwihfa_

**_Jean_ **

_good luck getting your phone back_

“What's up?” a voice calls from above. “You're grinning.”  Am I? Damn.

“Apparently I'm the only thing that keeps Levi's business together and Eren can't handle the mess," I respond, tucking my phone away. "How was the ride?"

"It was fun!" I look at him and man, am I too deep. I feel like my life was better when I was into Mikasa. At least I could rant to Connie about it. Now? Now I don't think it would go over well. And he'd never give me a rest, what with his ancient, “Jeeeeaaaan, you’ve got a crush on Marco, don’t you?”. I wouldn’t care if it had been true the first time he said that, but it only became so, what, a month ago? And he’s been saying this for ages.

Armin helps, but it's not like I can tell him too much... Eren would know in seconds and that’s definitely not what I’d like.

"-and there was this kid, Lucio, and he said-" Marco pauses for breath. "He said there's a maze around here. We need to check it out!"

"Yeah, maze sounds good," I nod. I kind of wish he would take me by the hand again. "Lead the way."

As we walk through the mass of people, it's no less uncomfortable than before, but at least this time I don't have to worry about where we're going. What could happen in a maze, right?

"Uhh- This doesn't look like a maze, Marco. I'm quite certain this says _Haunted House_ ," I deadpan. Marco at the very least has the decency to look apologetic.

"I know, but look, the line isn't _that_ long and it's on the way anyway? I've never been in there, can't we try it?" and I remind myself of what I agreed on with myself. And Armin. Mostly Armin. _Don't spoil his fun, even if you won't enjoy it as much,_ he said. _Be nice to him, you like him, after all._

He also said something about basic politeness and how I should try to do that for more people than just Marco.

"It's fine, let's just get in line."

The wait isn't long and we're soon stepping into the considerably cooler building. Thank God, I fucking hate the June heat. It's dark in here and as we're walking, I listen to the haunting screams of the damned and man, this is kind of nice. Definitely nicer than the rollercoaster. I turn to Marco, about to say something about how much better it is in here-

And he’s paper-white, his freckles stark against his skin, hands shaking and lips pressed tight. My heart clenches and I want to say something encouraging, but there’s no fucking way it won’t sound harsh and I really don’t want to fuck this up and scare him even more. I just step closer to him and take his hand in mine gently, not wanting to spook him out. He grips it immediately, and holy fuck, it hurts- But I squeeze back and his grip loosens. We keep on walking, so that’s more or less fine, I guess. It’s probably not that fa- HOLY FUCKING SHIT JESUS CHRIST- Death himself jumps out at us, howling like a madman, and I jump back in surprise. The guy’s not actually _that_ scary, it’s just that I didn’t expect this to happen. He steps back after a few seconds, gesturing for us to move forward with his fake, but impressive, scythe.

Taking half a step forward I realize it's as far as I am going to get, with Marco frozen in place, holding onto my arm for dear life with all of his might, head cast down and body trembling.

”Uhh, Marco?” I pat him gently on his shoulder. “It’s okay, he’s gone.” That doesn’t seem to help much, so I carefully peel Marco off me and hug him properly, rubbing circles into his back, like it’s the most normal thing in the fucking world, like I do it every day. I wish. He’s so soft and nice to touch... The last time I hugged him was on his birthday, a week ago, and it was really, really awkward- I hear Death clear his throat from behind me, and I realize we don’t have time for this right now. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,” I urge him and he nods a quiet agreement, letting me take his hand again as we resume our walk.

It might be my imagination going wild, but I could swear I feel him pressing closer to me.

From then on, I’m more aware of what’s going on around us and no skeleton, no ghost, and most _definitely_ no werewolf scares me, so I can hold Marco’s hand tighter when they jump out and just get him through the house faster.

When we finally reach the exit, he’s trembling and looks like he’s about to cry, so I take him away from the building and hug him tightly again, until he stills and relaxes into me. Neither of us pull away and since I don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time, I’m the first one to step back, reluctantly slipping my arms away from his back.

“So. You wanna go get ice cream or something?” I suggest. Marco nods and I wish he didn’t look so fucking sad. I look around for any place resembling a food vendor and am about to panic a little, but he gathers himself and points me in the right direction.

This part of the amusement park is considerably less crowded and believe me, I’m thankful for that. We pass a pond with paddle boats to rent, couples tracing lazy circles along the bank and I can’t help but imagine what it’d be like to share one of those with Marco. I quickly shake the thought off, trying not to focus on how much I want to hug him again, and soon the smell of fried food starts to fill the air.

When we get close enough to be able to see what’s for sale around here, I start to doubt the idea that got us here in the first place.

“So, ice cream?” I prompt him.

“Ice cream sounds good.” Marco gives a weak smile and we get into another line, the curse of all places filled with people.

I pay for our cones and we sit nearby, under one of the few unoccupied sunshades. We slowly slip into mindless conversation about Eren, Armin and how fucked they are, staying in the coffee shop with Levi and “the mess” alone. We ponder whatever may be happening there at the moment until we come to a lull.

“So...“ I begin, at the same time he does.

“You...“ We both stop and look at each other. He lets out a small giggle.

“You go first,” I prompt him, turning my eyes down at the ground.

“You’re a surprisingly good hugger, Jean.”

I splutter inwardly at the compliment and feel heat crawl up my cheeks.

“Thanks, I guess. Had lots of training thanks to my mom. I, uh... Always happy to help?”

“I’ll take you up on that offer sometime.” His smile is bright and he looks straight into my eyes. “So, what were you saying?” It takes me a second to remember what I wanted to ask him, but it finally comes back.

“How many times have you been here?”

“... Three, I guess. Last time two years ago, when Ymir decided it was a good idea to try and get drunk at the amusement park. You know how well it went.”

“I’ve heard stories. But wait, you’re here now, weren’t you all banned from coming here back then?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Permanently?” He giggles again, and fuck me if it isn’t the best sound on Earth. Actually, fuck me anyway.

“ _They_ were, I just so happened to be away when they were caught.”

“Away?” I prompt, licking the chocolate drop rolling off my ice cream’s wafer. “Where?” The response I get is blush the color that could rival stop lights.

“I could’ve been making out with Thomas a bit further from the rest. Could’ve not been, too.” Oh. Okay.

“Was it any good?”

“God, no. I don’t even know why we did it, he’s straight as a rod and it was so awkward…” He trails off and looks somewhere past me. My stomach unclenches - I didn’t even notice it knot up in the first place, with how invested into the gossip I got -  and then Marco’s up. “So, I still really want to check out that maze, it wasn’t there the last time I’ve been around. Come on, let’s go.”

He gets up and I, as always, follow. Of course I knew Marco’s gay; I wouldn’t let myself daydream about him otherwise, for fuck’s sake. He’s just- Thomas, really? I can imagine that, but man, it must’ve been painful if he wasn’t into it.

If it were me, though, that probably would’ve ended totally different. Since I’m trailing a bit behind, consumed by “what ifs” anyway, I admire the view of Marco’s ass and waist, because damn, there’s so much to enojy.

* * *

 

Yeah, okay, so maybe, just _maybe_ , splitting up wasn’t a good idea. It sure seemed like one, since “oh don’t worry, all the paths eventually lead to the exit”, but damn, it doesn’t feel so. After separating (of course I took the less-walked road, why did I do this, fucking hell) I just wandered more or less straight on, and even kept to that idiotic rule of “always keep your left hand to the wall”. Or hedge, whatever.

So, that’s been going on for the last twenty minutes. To be honest, I feel fucking lost.

When the thought occurs to me, I slump against the nearest bush and pull my phone out of its pocket, quickly tapping a text to Marco.

**_Marco_ **

_Yeah, I’m lost too. Any idea how to get out?_

**_Jean_ **

_not a fucking clue_

_wait_

I stand up, take a deep breath and scream at the top of my lungs.

“MARCO!” And, sure enough, I soon get back a fucking answer.

“POLO!”

That nerd.

But that sounded quite close, so…

**_Jean_ **

_put your hand up_

**_Marco_ **

_Done!_ _:)_

I look around and take the next right-

And land flat on my ass.

“What the-?”

“Oh, sorry!” I look up to see a stunning woman. “Are you alright?” she asks in a British accent and I swear, if she isn’t the most beautiful person to ever walk this Earth, I don’t know who is. She has white hair flowing down her shoulders, contrasting her brown skin and brilliantly blue eyes, staring at me in worry, although her nose is scrunched in displeasure at being bumped into. I wink at her in bewilderment and when she offers her hand, I take it and am instantly pulled up with amazing strength I never would’ve expected of her slender frame.

“Uh- Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Oh, it’s fine! Are you the one who lost their friend? You’ve made an awful lot of noise,” she giggles into her hand.

“Yeah, that would be me.” I try not to stare, but it’s not an easy feat to accomplish.

“Well then, he’s just around the corner. From there, you should take first two turns to the left and then fifth to the right… And eighth left. You’ll get out in no time!” She smiles widely and waves at me. “I should get going, though. Good luck.” She walks past me and I blink a few times before moving on.

“Thanks!” I call out after her, taking the turn she advised me to and there’s my man. “Marco! You wanna get the fuck out of this place?”

“As fast as possible, this is a nightmare.” He agrees and we follow the instructions we were given, talking about the person – apparently her name is Allura and her job is to look for lost people to help them out of this hell. Marco tells me she came across him first and they had a little chat before I texted him, which is how he found out the info.

We finally see the unassuming exit and quicken our pace subconsciously.

“YES, WE’RE FREE! I think I’ve had enough of all this for now.” Marco stretches up as we step out, and I can’t help but stare. “I know I’ve said I’m not hungry, but that was an hour and a maze ago, so how about we go grab a bite? I’ve heard the burgers here are amazing.”

“Hell yeah, burgers it is.”

* * *

 

As we finish our food, which lives up to its legend, Marco practically melts onto my side. I try not to react and take a swig of my coke.

“Heat melted you, Marco? Should I get you into a refrigerator?”

“’m tired from all ‘is walking… And it’s hoooot. And I just ate. Gotta rest now,” he mumbles, his eyes closed and breath warm on my biceps.  I swallow and get back to last of my fries.

“Please tell me you’re not having a sun stroke, because I sure as fuck don’t know what to do if that’s the case.” He gives a small laugh and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position against my bony self.

“I’m fine, just tired. Gimme.” He reaches out and makes grabby hand at my drink, and who am I to deny him? I lean back and after taking a drink Marco puts the cup back and places his head on my shoulder, apparently deeming it comfy enough to nap on.

When I’m sure he’s not looking, I fish my phone out of my pocket again and snap a picture, sending it to Eren (if only out of spite). I am not boasting, I’m just teasing him with my freedom. I boast only to Armin.

**_Eren_ **

_fuck u I lost my phone bcs of u_

**_Jean_ **

_well, you clearly got it back_

**_Eren_ **

_im on my break_

_levis gonna take it away again_

**_Jean_ **

_that’s what you get for txting instead of working_

I get Eren’s middle finger and mad face as an answer, so I just type a quick “love u 2” and respond to Armin’s flurry of excited texts as inconspicuously as possible.

“What’re you doing?” comes a voice from my collarbone. “S’mething happened?”

“Nah, Eren’s whining. Again. Levi gave him his phone back for his break. He got off easy, I’m never given mine back until the end of shift.”

“You know that’s probs illegal?”

“Yeah, but try telling Levi that. He’d eat me alive.”

“I wouldn’t let him.” I feel his lips brush against my skin as he smiles. My cheeks burn up and I finish the rest of my coke.

“He’d eat you too.” I glance at him and wonder what it’d feel like to pet his hair now. It takes only a second of me being off guard for my body to decide that _yes, it does want to rest my head on his_ , so that happens.

I panic for a second but Marco doesn’t seem to care, so I indulge myself in the feeling of closeness. It’s been long since I could just relax with someone like this, even if I still feel the butterflies flutter around. And it certainly helps that Marco doesn’t seem to mind.

“Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“We should do this more often.”

“’greed.”

When Marco gets up, I almost whine at the loss of contact. Get a grip, Jean, it’s not that big of a deal (except it _is_ ).

“So-“ He stretches and yawns. “You wanna go check the drop tower out?”

“The what? We can go, just let me get a refill of that.” I shake my cup and we’re off.

* * *

 

… I truly would have preferred the maze. The boat. Hell, I would take the rollercoaster over this shit. Somehow I didn’t protest soon enough and now I’m getting strapped into this tiny seat, along with like a dozen other people and I don’t think I can take what’s about to happen. My stomach already has had enough of this, and we haven’t even started. The attendant is lowering the whatever-the-name-of-this-shit-is to hold us in place and she takes a step back, turns the thing on-

This isn’t so bad, actually, we’re just riding up- oH _FUCK_.

I let out a scream as we’re falling down and I feel like I’m about to see my lunch again fucking soon.

* * *

 

I wake up on the ground with a circle of concerned onlookers above me. Fucking amazing, what’s happened? I immediately try to sit up, and am gently pushed down. I see gray spots and feel woozy. Fuck.

It turns out I fainted and after the ride ended they had to get me out and working again. The only good thing about this is that I did not, in fact, vomit. The attendant checks whether I am concussed, like this would be a thing after _just_ fainting.

Since I woke up and was no longer such an interesting thing to gawk at, I am left with only Marco and another park employee. Marco hands me a bottle of water and I’d gladly drink, but sitting up doesn’t feel like such a good idea anymore, so I just. Chill there, like the fucking loser I am. Why me.

“- yeah, thank you for your help, I think he’ll be fine now? Thank you so much.” I hear my favorite voice somewhere above me.

“Jean? We should move from here, you know. If you feel good enough to stand up.” I feel gravel around me shift and am gently pushed up by my shoulders. It’s not like I have much of a choice, so I pull myself up slowly and take a sip of the water I’ve been given. “Come on, we’ll find somewhere else for you to rest.” Marco takes my hand in his again and leads me away from the drop tower.

“Sorry for fainting on you. Was the ride fun?”

“It was all great until I realized that I’m apparently the person responsible for an adult who fainted and I had to make sure we didn’t get in trouble,” he says, but there’s no condemnation in his voice and he smiles brightly. “And that said adult didn’t damage his head. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“… Okay.” My mind is still too mushy to formulate a snappy enough response, so I give up and just sit under a tree on a patch of grass we’re passing. “I think that’s enough of crazy rides for me. You got anything less… _exciting_ to check out around here?” He hums as he takes a seat right next to me, our shoulders resting against each other. It’s so much better here in the shade than under sun’s merciless heat.

“Um. There’s a house of mirrors, I think. And a 4D cinema… And we could take out one of the paddle boats, probably. Or just get going, if you’d prefer that.” I can hear his gentle smile and as I consider those options, I finish the water and throw the bottle in the nearest trash can. It makes a satisfying sound as it falls inside. Score.

“I think I’d rather get going, unless you want to go onto some of those mad rides by yourself.”

“Let’s go, then.”

“Wanna drop by Levi’s? We could annoy Eren and get a coffee,” I offer, since, while I _do_ want to get out of this place, I don’t really like the idea of parting from Marco. “Double win.”

“Triple, if we count in Sasha’s cake. She texted the whole squad that she got too into stress baking and will be hosting a meeting at half past four at the cafe.” I love his smile. And Sash’s baking, so this is good. Think about the freaking cake, Jean, not about Marco’s hugs and smiles.

“And how long ‘til then?” I wonder how he’d react if I hugged him again.

“An hour, more or less. We’ve got enough time to chill here for a while longer.” _Jean, for fuck’s sake. Get a fucking grip._ And I do. On his waist. Hey, it’s only fair after he slept on me, isn’t it? I move closer so I can lay my head on his shoulder, same as he did and close my eyes. “Goodnight, Jean.” I scoff and relax, taking in the feel of Marco next to me for yet another time today.

I space out, letting the voices of the park’s visitors drift away and close my ears to the, to be frank, fucking annoying music, and it’s only when my pillow stirs underneath me that I slowly blink back into present.

“Jean, wake up. We should go if we want any of that cake Sasha promised.” Marco nudges me with his elbow. “Come on.”

“’m not sleeping.” I let my arm fall from his waist and straighten up, checking time on my phone and swiping squad chat notifications away.

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Bedhead.” Marco smiles, rising to his feet and offering me a hand which I gladly take. He pulls me up and we end up facing each other, mere inches separating our faces.

I do my best not to lick my lips and, somehow, succeed; my eyes widen and I am _definitely_ staring into Marco’s. He just smiles and threads his fingers through my hair, ruffling it up and combing it into place.

I swear, the air is so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife and sell it packed into little boxes labeled “Jean Kirschtein’s Misery”. I wonder whether it’s just me or if Marco can feel that, too.

It must look funny to all the people around. Two guys up in each other’s personal spaces, just _staring_ at the other, eyes wide, one’s hand in the other’s hair.

I swallow audibly and ponder kissing him for a fraction of second; thankfully he gives my hair just one more tug and pulls his hand away. I relax for a moment and then I’m being pulled forward into a hug, Marco’s arms wrapping around my middle.

Let me tell you, I might’ve thought I was going to die here, but I never considered that _Marco_ could be the reason.

I have no fucking idea what’s going on. I hope he’s making a move and am scared out of my mind. What if he is? What if he _isn’t_ and I’m just mistaking this for more than it is?

I almost forget to hug him back. Almost.

“You okay?” He doesn’t say anything and it’s fucking terrifying. I feel like my heart will burst out of my chest and I’ll die.

“Yeah, I just- You’re nice to hug,” he chuckles and squeezes me tighter; I am left with no other option than to squeeze back.

It should feel weird. It _does_ , but at the same time it doesn’t. It feels right, being here with him. Calm. I breathe in deeply, in sync with Marco and I don’t care about the weird part. I just enjoy his warmth, indulge in the feeling of his hands splayed on my back, holding me close to him, chest to chest,  my head resting on his shoulder.

“No way in hell you’re comfortable with how bony I am,” I mumble quietly.

“Yes way. And it’s nice because it’s you, not just because we’re hugging.”

My mind goes blank on the spot. I freeze, going rigid, and _of course_ he notices, Jean, he’s fucking _glued_ to you.

“Um-“ he starts to pull away and I just _know_ that he’ll never touch me again if I let him, unless I do it first and there’s no way I will ever have enough courage after this.

So I hold him in place.

“Jean?” he asks, tentatively. “Are you alright?”

His voice is quiet and I realize I’ll have to man up and talk to him like a normal person.

“Yeah.” I know it’s not enough, but honestly, what the fuck can I do? Confess my undying love and hope not to make a scene? Like hell. “This is fine, I- I like hugging _you_ too.” I hide my face in his shoulder; congratulations, Jean. Great job. Un-fuck it. Come on. He’s your friend and he feels dumb about this too, just get it over with.

“Oh.” It’s quiet and I have no idea what it’s meant to convey.

“So, like. This is not a problem, I can hug you whenever,” I finish and squeeze him again for good measure, letting go after that. I take a step back and look at him, hoping that we’re fine, that I didn’t fuck this up. He looks up at me and his eyes are framed with red, but his smile is genuine.

“Thank you, Jean. It means a lot to me.” Same, Marco. Same. I decide against better judgement and take his hand in mine, the way he did it for me so many times today.

“Let’s go get that cake.” I say, not putting my heart into it.

* * *

 

We walk to a bus stop in silence, holding hands, and I’m not sure what that means. The silence feels heavy and I know we should talk about this, but I don’t know how to, so I just let it all linger.

When we get onto the bus, it’s surprisingly empty, apparently it’s not too popular to leave the park this early. We take advantage of that and sit in the back, Marco by the window and I beside him.

He pointedly looks away, pretending to be _fascinated_ by the view behind glass, but I know him better than that.

I want to tell him how I feel and that I don’t want this silence, but I don’t have any words that would convey the meaning. And so I decide to do the second best thing and change my hold on his hand, threading our fingers together. I look at him to gauge his reaction and my eyes meet his, staring at me, filled with panic and hope I know all too well, but that can have more than one meaning. Can mean something else than I want it to.

So I realize that there’s one surefire way to go. I take a deep breath and say the words.

“I don’t know how and whether I should say it at all, Marco, so you can stop me If you want to.” I pause, waiting for him to say something, anything. When he does nothing but keep on staring, I reluctantly pick up where I left off, stressed out of my mind and hoping this doesn’t end too terribly. I glance at the few people riding the bus with us, mostly busy with their own business, paying no attention to us, thank fucking God. I’m not strong enough to look at him again, so I keep my eyes on our linked hands. “We’re friends and I know that,” his hand grips mine in an iron-like hold and it makes me cringe, so he quickly loosens the hold, bless this angel. “But I also know that I’d like for us to be something more, Marco. If you’d want this.” I finish clumsily and fight the need to run away.

There you go, I’ve said it. I didn’t want to and I feel like this was the worst thing I could do, but it happened, it’s out there and there’s not a fucking thing I can do to change it.

And I fueled this with my fucking fantasies of him saying this stuff to me. This is ridiculous and pathetic, and I feel so, so stupid now that I’ve said this. Fuck this, Marco probably hates me now and is gonna jump right out at the next stop. He lets go of my hand and I feel empty inside.

And then I’m scooped up into his arms in a quick hug and a “Thank God” whispered beside my ear and then he’s pulled away, terrified in a totally different way. Before I get a chance to ask, he whispers way louder than before.

“We’ve missed our stop.”

Look, you can blame me, sure. But what else am I supposed to do? I laugh madly, tilting my head backwards and just letting it all out, and Marco joins me, if not to such a level.

People stare and we don’t care, just laughing until all the tension and adrenaline slips out and then we jump out at the next stop and decide to just walk the two stops back. I tentatively take his hand again and he smiles widely at _me_ , lacing _our_ fingers together, and I just can’t help it and kiss _his_ cheek.

His reaction is priceless, he just stops for a second, his smile dropping into disbelief and I have a front row seat to see his hand move towards where I just kissed him as he smiles again, just the tiniest bit. He looks at me and I just smile back at him.

It’s all gonna be alright, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for your attention! :D  
> I'd be most grateful if you were to leave a comment, whether you liked this piece or not. Any kind of feedback is appreciated, you're free to tell me about all the things you didn't like so I can do better next time!  
> Thank you again!  
> My [tumblr](https://tuptaju.tumblr.com), if you'd like to contact me directly. :D


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